


Disguised Curses - the Deleted Scenes

by kyuubi_wench



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2017-11-28 02:06:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/669023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyuubi_wench/pseuds/kyuubi_wench
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small collection of scenes that either did not fit into the main timeline of the original story, or scenes that i couldn't get to mesh into the fic without detracting attention from the main plot. Current chapters were written long before the majority of the main plot-line.</p>
<p>I may or may not add more as the main story goes on, depends on how the muses continue to work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sasuke's Return

**Author's Note:**

> This first scene is unfinished and will, at this time, remain unfinished. I could not come up with a suitable finish for the 'second half' of Sasuke's trial, so it was left unwritten. 
> 
> There may be some out-of-character traits within the cut scenes compared to the original anime and the main story line. As noted in the summary, these were written during the infancy of a story that I have been writing in for five years.   
> There will be discrepancies. There will be flaws. But the point and main issue of the cut scenes remain the same, regardless. They help fill in things that are mentioned in the story without having a previous scene. 
> 
> This chapter ties into Chapter 8, where Sasuke's trial is mentioned.
> 
>  
> 
> As with the main story, italics are emphasis and thoughts. Bold is for Kyuubi

  
  
**The Return**  
  
  
  
  
Sasuke panted as the gates of Konoha came within view in the early morning light. After he’d beaten Itachi so narrowly he’d passed out, and he wasn’t sure how long he’d been unconscious. At least he’d had the common sense to hide before it had happened- Itachi’s body had been gone when he awoke. No doubt his companions from Akatsuki had “cleaned up” after the battle. And now, Sasuke was going to do his own cleaning up- years worth of legal offenses, not to mention the emotional ones.   
  
Now he could only hope that Tsunade would listen to him before ordering his execution. He had much to tell her, and he wanted to live. He’d do almost anything within his power to stay alive, where he could watch Naruto. He held a long ignored affection for the blonde rival and teammate, something that reminded him of his feeling towards his brother before life had gone to hell. And with Naruto being one of the last living demon vessels left, it would only be time before Akatsuki caught up with him. Sasuke refused to let his friend get taken or manipulated as he himself had been. Trying to live with the Snake for so long had been barely manageable, but the decision to leave had always eaten at Sasuke’s mind- once he managed to see past the all consuming rage toward his brother. He hadn’t ever forgiven Itachi for the clan massacre. And now, he wouldn’t really get to have the chance.   
  
He never wanted to see Naruto have to make a similar decision.   
  
Instead, Sasuke took a deep breath and forced himself to walk that last distance until he reached the wooded edge before the gates. The prickle down his spine alerted himself of several strong chakra presences in the area, and he walked into open sight slowly, hands up and empty. ANBU surrounded him in seconds, the fierce unrelenting stare of Ibiki Morino challenging him. Silently he allowed his body to bend and slide, easily going to his knees as he kept his hands free, open, and touching absolutely nothing. He didn’t even twitch his fingers as he knelt, knowing he was screwed the instant any of the ninja thought he was attacking. So he waited, silent and still as the snakes he’d observed from time to time. Patience was a blessing- if only he’d learned that much younger.   
  
“Uchiha, Sasuke. What brings you here?” Ibiki’s rough voice filled the area with disdain and serious doubt. He so didn’t trust the teenaged Uchiha.  
  
“I need to speak with Lady Tsunade. I will go quietly and without havoc if I can just see her for a few minutes. Please.” He tacked the last on like an afterthought, though really, he just had to make himself say it. He was the last Uchiha. He never had to plead or beg or grovel. Until now. Apparently, Ibiki wasn’t impressed with the display, and his face wrinkled into a frown around the deep scars.   
  
“Do it. Code four.” Two ANBU nin cuffed him, stripped his of all weapons pouches, his sword, and the pair of scrolls tucked into his belt. They jerked the front of his shirt open, shoving it off his shoulders to look for hidden weapons, thoroughly patting him down. The cuffs blocked the seals on his wrists for shuriken, and they found nothing else. Then one did something, and suddenly what chakra Sasuke had recuperated since his battle with Itachi was gone, locked out of reach. He forced himself to relax, not wanting the stress to trigger his curse-mark. He really didn’t want to fight, not now, not against these ninja. It would destroy any possible chance he still had.  
  
And then it was time. A quartet of ANBU flanked him while Ibiki took the lead. The rest of the ninja that had been there scattered, and Sasuke absently wondered how quickly news of his return would spread. Or if they would keep things secret until such time as his fate was decided. But no, then they wouldn’t be sure to lead him openly through the streets to the Tower. There were very few people up and out, nearly all of them ninja. None addressed him- his escort discouraged it- but he still saw a wide range of shock, anger, and on one tanned face, a look of utter dread. He recognized his pre-genin teacher, Iruka, before that shocked and uncertain visage disappeared down a street towards the academy. A several minutes and a few random faces later, they entered the door at the base of Hokage tower. Two of the ANBU peeled away as they entered, and Sasuke silently followed Ibiki up the flights of stairs, careful not to stumble with his wrists cuffed behind his back. It’d be one nasty fall. Then finally, finally, he was before a set of doors he remembered all too well.   
  
The chuunin at the door paled slightly before ducking inside to see if the Hokage was available yet. Silence, the unmistakable sound of something breaking, and then more silence. The ninja stepped back out to give an apologetic look toward Ibiki. “Morino-san, it will be a few minutes.”   
  
“I am sure there is no rush.” Sasuke felt a moment of dread at the look in the man’s eyes. He was the village’s interrogation expert for a reason. And that look fairly screamed with sadistic interest in Sasuke’s mind. Indeed, no rush. He just wanted to be sure he was alive when Tsunade finally decided to see him. Not that he could really do anything about it… He sighed as the thought hit him. He had expected some hassle upon his return.   
  
At least ten minutes crawled by in an unbearable silence as he stood limply under the supervision of his guards. Finally, the door cracked open, and Ibiki led him inside. The two ANBU from before were waiting inside, no doubt already having had reported initial findings to the Hokage. They took the chain to his cuffs from Ibiki, and finally, the last Uchiha was able to look at his one-time Hokage.   
  
Tsunade was most definitely _NOT_ pleased to see him. “Morino, report.”   
  
Sasuke tuned the interrogator out, keeping his gaze locked with Tsunade’s, determined not to show fear or weakness to someone that quite literally held his life in her hands. She could order his execution, immediately, and no one would contradict her. He was a missing-nin, a traitor.   
  
Traitors were usually executed promptly, often after having been in the hands of someone like Ibiki. Sasuke would die if he had to, but he didn’t _want_ to die. Not right now. And at the look of anger in his judge’s eyes, he wasn’t holding much hope.  
  
Finally Ibiki silenced and Tsunade watched the boy before her, older than the last time he’d stood here. “Anything you have to say, say it now.”   
  
“Orochimaru is dead, by my hand. Sound is a crumbled place with few survivors, and none that will pursue Konoha or any of its allies. That threat has been eliminated.” A blonde eyebrow rose high. “I have proof he is dead. I have his head, sealed in a scroll. The head of his _true_ body.”  
  
“Explain.” Damn but that voice was cold. He didn’t know her voice could be so… calculatingly cruel. And she hadn’t even gotten personal with him yet. “It would be easier to show than tell, Godaime. He altered his body as much or more than he did that of his subjects, and victims. As such I thought it best to bring his most recognizable piece left.” The scrolls taken from his rope-belt were presented before him, and he indicated the darker one with a curious mark on the edge. “You’ll want room for this.” People parted in front of Tsunade’s desk, leaving the floor relatively empty. A finger dug along his arm, gathering blood left on his body from his fight with his brother, then slicked over the seals on the scroll. With a twist the scroll opened and rolled across the floor, an arcing line of symbols stretching the length. A moment later the seals relaxed with a soft sound and released the severed, grotesque head of the ex-Sannin. The serpentine head lay limp and lifeless across the paper of the scroll and the floor underneath. The eyes could not be denied as his, and as the ninja in the room looked upon it, there were sounds of coughing and obvious disgust.   
  
Silence reigned for several long minutes while all within the room collected themselves from the ghastly sight. "He is truly gone then." A soft whisper but one heard clearly in the room. "How do you know that those that are left won't be a problem?"   
  
"The Sharingan is useful for many things, Godaime. It was simple enough to find those who didn't want to be there and send them home. Others simply took a bit of _persuasion_ to believe they would not ever feel the need to attack Konoha or her allies. Of course, said persuasion also has memory seals, they won't remember Sound, nor will they remember me. I'm not good enough to make them forget everything, though. I tried to be as cautious as possible. What's left of Sound is a pile of rubble and some victims who will never go anywhere."  
  
"And your personal intentions?" Sasuke was about to answer as carefully as he dared, when a whirl of energy burst through the office door, startling everyone inside.  
  
"Baa-chan! I smell snak- !" Naruto froze in the doorway, eyes wide and glued to the sight of Orochimaru's head. Slowly his gaze flicked up to Sasuke, back to the head, and up to Tsunade. "Sorry. Later." The door slammed behind him and Sasuke could have sworn there had been tears in Naruto's eyes.   
  
"Why are you here, Uchiha? We're not letting you back in so you can run off and break everyone's hearts again. I have never approved of your choices when it came to seeking vengeance."   
  
"My vengeance is done. Itachi is dead as well. We fought not long ago at the old mansion outside the city. My purpose here is to offer what intel I have for the safety of the place I once considered home." His voice softened but he kept the stern gaze leveled at him. "I would also like to apologize before you execute me as a traitor."   
  
A critical apprehension swept over Tsunade’s visage, clearly doubting the Uchiha’s words. “And what news could you hope to offer that could change standing orders on missing nin? Especially one of your threat?” She watched the boy’s eyes as they flicked around the room, pausing uncertainly on almost every ANBU member, before sighing and lowering his head. “Akatsuki is on the move. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but soon. The fact they hunt the tailed beasts, the demons, was common enough knowledge. They will come for Naruto.” He said the last almost softly, raising a warded, but intrigued look on Tsunade. ”I want to protect him. I know I’ve hurt him, physically and emotionally, and he may never forgive me, but I can’t let those bastards use him the way I let that _snake_ use me.” His eyes lifted, coal black burning with an intensity that hadn’t been seen in far too long. “I will do whatever you want me to, if it can mean helping him in some way. I can’t explain it, but.. he is someone that matters. I can finally admit that. He matters to me.”   
  
Tsunade weighed those words and features against her gut, not yet sure how to handle this. She could use someone of Sasuke’s power, for his words about Akatsuki were true. Jiraiya had said as much just the week before. But there was concerns too, about his loyalties and potential future actions. Then a brilliant, if potentially disastrous, idea hit her mind. “Morino. Put him in solitary, the soonest I’d be able to consult the council is later tonight. Do what you feel is necessary to ensure he’s secure, but I need him sane and able to talk.” A crooked, cold smile filled the interrogator’s face. “Save it until after I deal with them, Morino. I mean it.” Her cold blue eyes locked back onto Sasuke. “You better damn well mean anything, Uchiha. Providing the council lets you live, you’ll also face a trial of your peers. They have much more personal issues than the decrepit idiots pretending to rule this village.” Sasuke’s face paled satisfyingly, and she pointed the group out the door. “Get out of here. And get someone to come clean up this mess!”  


 

****

  
  
Two hours later found Sasuke chained to a wall in an isolation cell, a warded blindfold over his eyes, chakra still inaccessible. The guards had left him in only his underwear, a pair of boxers that did nothing to fend off the chill of the underground room. He hung limply, not resisting his bonds. He knew he was lucky to have a few more hours. He could only hope things worked out. He wasn’t certain exactly how long he’d hung there, waiting, when the door creaked open.  
  
“Sasuke?” Oh kami, no. He’d never ever forgotten that voice. The uncertainty and tears in that voice made him want to grit his teeth. How had things gotten this bad? Wait, trying and nearly killing him several times certainly didn’t help.  
  
“You shouldn’t have come here, Naruto.” I don’t want you to see me like this, he thought, but didn’t say. “I- ”   
  
“Shut up.” Suddenly Sasuke was glad he couldn’t see the blonde’s face. He should never sound so angry, so hurt. Naruto was always the bright one, the eager voice amongst them all. How broken was he from Sasuke’s stupidity? “You what? You apologize? That’s not going to make things easier. It won’t fix how it hurt every time I had to come back and tell Sakura that I couldn’t uphold my promise to her, to bring you back! ‘Sorry’ isn’t going to make me forgive the times you tried to kill me. If it wasn’t for me being what I am, I’d be dead!” The anger had risen, nearly suffocating in its intensity. The words stopped, but little sounds continued, the blonde’s sniffling, his shuffling feet. And then those went quiet. Sasuke strained to listen, sense, anything to know if he was alone or if Naruto had merely stopped moving.   
  
Hot breath scalded the back of his neck, before a growl rumbled into the room. **“Pathetic waste of flesh, aren’t you?”** Naruto’s voice, his scent, but not. This voice was rougher, deeper, darker. Malevolence rolled thick in that tone. **“You tried so often to kill us, calling him weak, pathetic, idiot. But I look at you now, and you’d just be so much meat between my claws. I could destroy you and play with the remains before the guards would even notice something is wrong. But I promised him I wouldn’t even touch you, not like this.”** The heat left a little, and this time there was a slight scrape of claws to track.   
  
“Kyuubi?” It was the only explanation. Naruto, and yet not? Sasuke hadn’t known that Naruto could allow this to happen though. It was something to keep in mind, and study on.   
  
**“Hush, Uchiha! I wish I could have had a better conversation for our first real meeting, but there are limits. I will talk to you another time, providing you live. Maybe if they order your execution, they’ll let me do it. I haven’t played in blood in far too long.”** A heavy sigh filled the room. **“I will see you another time. The brat has something he wants to say and then we must leave before the guards come back.”**  
  
Silence for a moment, then a groan. Sasuke listened as his company took a couple of stumbling steps before stopping and speaking. “Tsunade spoke with some of the council. They will hold your hearing tonight, and she’s summoning some of our old rookie group to a private meeting afterwards. I’m not allowed to either meeting.”   
  
“That makes no sense.” Was he hearing this right? He’d be judged but not by one of the two who deserved it most? What was Tsunade thinking? Naruto’s voice cut into his thoughts.

“I’m still the demon, as far as the council is concerned. I can’t change their minds no matter what I try to do. And plus, I already gave Tsunade my opinion for reference.”  
  
”What did you say?” He wanted to know, desperately needed to know. Maybe it showed in his tone too much, for the blonde chuckled.   
  
“I’ll tell you when you survive the council and Tsunade, and whoever our age she decides to sic on you. That means you have to live, no matter who wants to see you burn for your mistakes. Offer the old brats whatever they want, then abase yourself to the others. It should see you alive for a little longer. And then we’ll see what it takes to prove yourself again.” With those cryptic words, Naruto left, and Sasuke hung in silence, waiting with dread until his dooming judgment. He had plenty of time to think.  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
  
It was almost black outside when his ANBU escort delivered him before the council. They had given him back his clothes, but hadn’t bothered to bathe him at any point, and the smell of old dirt and blood offended more than just his own nose, if the faces around him said anything. His arms were bound tightly behind his back, wrist to elbow, pulling his chest and shoulders into one clean line. The ANBU guards flanked him and stilled. He allowed his eyes to travel the room- Tsunade sat with the three council heads and several clan elders. Kakashi stood off on one side, separate from the rest, and Sasuke could see his eye spinning, recording everything. There were other faces he had seen before, but very few he actually knew by name. Jounin, ANBU, clan heads…. He took a steadying breath, remembering what Naruto had said hours before.   
  
“Uchiha Sasuke, you are here to be tried and held accountable for various crimes within the past several years. Before your actions are judged do you wish to say anything in your defense?” The old man in one of the council seats spoke firmly and just loudly enough to be heard through the room. His company sat with expectant looks- only Tsunade’s face looked remotely blank. The raven- haired teen nodded and answered in a clear tone that carried.  
  
“I am guilty of many things, I can’t deny this. And I am ready to accept your judgment.” He glanced barely at Tsunade. “But I was advised to do whatever I must to make amends, if I can.”  
  
A scarred, elderly man sneered. “We’ll see what you have to say when we’re done. Read the charges.” An ABNU stepped forward from the shadows behind the council, picking up a scroll next to Tsunade’s hand.   
  
“The charges against the accused, Uchiha Sasuke, are as follows: Desertion of one’s home village, punishable by banishment, imprisonment, or death. Alliance with a known threat to one’s home village, punishable by lifetime imprisonment or death. Several counts of attacking ninja from one’s own village without reason or risk of life, punishment variable to the extent of damage, possibly punishable by death. Allowance of hometown secrets to fall into an enemy’s grasp, punishable by imprisonment or death.” The masked ninja rolled the scroll back up and placed it silently next to Tsunade, stepping back into the shadows.   
  
There was something sinking, trying to die in the depths of Sasuke’s stomach. He was screwed, so very screwed. What in hell could he offer to these people to evade the worst possible outcome? He kept his blank mask on, letting himself betray as little as possible. He had to survive, somehow. He remained silent as Tsunade stood.   
  
“Do you have any questions thus far, Uchiha?” Actually, he did, about that last comment. He opened his mouth, and then shut it, remembering something they learned from the academy. Anyone with a unique bloodline specifically restricted to one area could be considered as a secret to their village. For someone like him, the last blood-carrier of the Sharingan, that would go especially double for him. “No, Tsunade-sama. I have no questions at this time.” Wait, was that _his_ voice sounding so pitifully humble? Determinedly he beat his pride down, knowing that it was necessary at some level to carry the attitude that went with his position- on his knees at someone else’s mercy.   
  
“Considering the gravity of his misdeeds, he has done things that benefited this village, intentionally or not.” Tsunade addressed the council in attendance. “He is responsible for bringing down Orochimaru, an enemy and vicious threat to this village, and the same traitor he’d run away to join. In addition, he also executed a member of Akatsuki, his own flesh and blood, Itachi Uchiha, a high ranking missing nin from this very village. We have proof of both instances, and if I understand correctly, the idea to hunt and kill his own brother was something helpfully enforced by this village. It could be seen as the village’s fault that he ran off in pursuit of means to fulfill this near expectation of him.”   
  
Sasuke could barely hold back the surprise that filled him. Was Tsunade defending him? Or did she have some other goal in her mind? His shock instead was voiced by several people among the council and clan heads. Shouts and disdainful voices echoed in the room, indignant over the implications of their Hokage’s words. The noise escalated until no one could discern who was saying what, and Tsunade lost her infamous temper. The table blew apart, the middle where her fist made contact dusting away. The show of anger and power shut everyone up. “We’re not here to decide who is guilty for what, only to judge on the consequences of his actions. But in light of history and suggestions planted in a young mind, sometimes a different perspective is needed. That is why I mentioned those things. I am not condoning anything, and as yet, no one has even asked _why_ he did these crimes.” She held up a hand, halting the impending questions. “All I’m saying is that this village is no more innocent than its weapons.”   
  
“And you plan to make him one of our weapons, instead of letting someone else take him?” someone sneered.   
  
“No one will ever _‘take’_ me.” Sasuke’s voice filling the room out of turn attracted a lot of heat- none of it positive. But several people gestured, wanting an explanation. “I am a ninja, not just a weapon. I cannot be stolen away like a knife, if I am not willing. And there is no other place I would go. No where I want to go.” He scanned the faces, meeting eyes with those daring to look straight at him. “I went willingly to that bastard, Orochimaru. And I paid for it, in my time there, and since killed him. I brought his head as a trophy to Konoha, I don’t want it. I fought and killed my own brother, and now, I just want to deal with something simple and normal now. I don’t want to run away, hiding at every unknown. And whatever you demand from me, even my death, would be welcome.”   
  
“Are you asking for death?” Big white eyes- a Hyuga. Sasuke dropped his gaze in a stab at deference, before flicking back up to lock with that bright, empty whiteness. “I do not desire death, but it would not be the worst thing that could happen in my life.” No, ransacking Itachi’s still warm body for his Akatsuki ring had been one of the most traumatizing thing he’d ever had to do yet. Even playing puppet for Orochimaru hadn’t been so devastating. He’d come to realize, if too late, that no matter how much he hated Itachi for the clan massacre, he loved him too. After all, he was his aniki- the brother he had looked up to and worshiped. Dreaming and plotting Itachi’s death had never allowed for the reality of those personal feelings.   
  
“Why have you returned here?”   
  
He didn’t hesitate a response. “It’s my home. I belong here.”   
  
“Why did you kill the traitor you ran away to join?”  
  
“He deserved to die. He was a poor excuse for a ninja, even with his power.” His eyes blazed but the seals kept the Sharingan from appearing. “He deserved far worse than he got.”   
  
Once again silence ruled, each member of the clan heads and council thinking. Clearly, there were so many questions to ask, but no one knew of where to go next. The Uchiha’s words held so much personal venom. “With the council’s permission, I would like Sasuke to show what Orochimaru did to him, so they understand a bit better about the before, and the after.” Sasuke refrained, barely, from turning to stare at Kakashi. He knew the man was watching every nuance in his body and could already read the shock- he didn’t need him to memorize the look full on. His prior mentor wanted him to show the council his curse-seal body. A few moments passed and various members nodded. Even Tsunade seemed interested. “Give him about ten percent access to his chakra. I will watch him.”   
  
The ANBU nearest him touched his shoulder and Sasuke sighed in relief, a slight relaxing of his muscles as the tight lid on his chakra was released, however minutely. He reached out to the sense that always lingered under his skin, the tingle of dark power that pulsed in his body. It was painful, with the extreme restriction, but the seal was made to be able to push past such things, and soon he felt the odd sensation of his body changing as the stage two curse form took over. His wings quivered behind him, eager to drive his body out of here. “I am the Hawk of Konoha, and the Serpent was killed by my talons.” Hn. He never noticed that his personality was a little different like this. Something to check out later- if there was a later.  
  
Of course, like this, he had to find a secret pleasure in the shocked outcries of his judges. Didn’t they know this was what Orochimaru had liked to do, change his underlings far beyond their usual abilities? But he had been stronger, and had been bound to win. Even the mighty adders bowed before predatory birds, because no matter how hard they fought, they lost. It was meant to be as such.   
  
“Remove him from the room while we deliberate. And seal him back up.” ANBU gripped him roughly, dragging him from the courtroom and down the hall to a small, quiet room. One knelt before him and spoke before touching him. “I need you to change back before redoing your chakra seal. Council’s orders.” The soft-spoken voice was dark, vaguely familiar. Sasuke blinked, making note of the voice before forcing down the seal, wincing as his still battered body complained at the rapid change. Once he felt the power tucked away and his body turned to normal, he slumped onto the floor. Another touch, and his chakra dissipated again. Sasuke remotely wondered, if they let him live, if the chakra suppression would become permanent. It wasn’t very much a promising idea. It would mean he’d probably be denied from becoming a ninja again, forced into becoming a civilian with talents. He barely noticed the cuffs around his wrists had snapped during the change and the ANBU had to replace them, again leaving his arms and ribs stretched uncomfortably. Instead he focused on his shallow breathing, ensuring he didn’t pass out before he could be summoned back into the room, and let his body relax.   
  
A full hour and twenty minutes later, the ANBU was rousing him, leading him back before the council. Some of the members looked smug, others disapproving. Once everything was settled- including his constant watch guard of ANBU, Tsunade cleared her throat. She seemed, not angry, but peeved, like she’d had to tell someone off. “Uchiha Sasuke, as mentioned before, this is not a case of deciding your innocence or guilt, but rather judging you on those crimes that are openly known and acknowledged, even by you. Before I lay out what the repercussions are, members of this council have a last few remaining questions and you also have an option to plead your case, if that is what you wish. But understand that whatever may be said will most likely NOT change any of the current decisions as to your judgment. Do you understand and accept this?”   
  
Sasuke took a deep breath. It wasn’t quite time yet- were they giving him just enough cord to hang himself with, literally or proverbially? “I understand everything you just stated, Hokage-sama. And I will accept whatever judgment the council has decreed.”   
  
One of the council elders rose, an older woman. “You said you would do anything to stay here, is that correct?” He sneered mentally. They were going to try and milk him for all he was worth.  
  
“I said that, yes. I’d gladly offer this village everything I know from my time with Orochimaru. My knowledge of what happened in Sound was second only to Kabuto and the snake himself. I’ve already offered my life… what else could you want?” The glare he got from Tsunade warned him that he was toeing the line, but he didn’t care. He knew she was the one that would have to make the executive decisions, the council had power but not as much as they thought.   
  
“You would give up all rights as a ninja and become a civilian?” He gritted his teeth. “If that is what you demand, I would comply.” He would comply- but he’d hate it. He wasn’t meant to be a civilian, he’d have no way to keep himself sane and a viable person in the community like that. He’d still train and spar, even if he had to do it alone in the dark.   
  
“A civilian life is more suited for a clan head and future father.” Shock presented itself as the utter stillness creeping into his body. Father? There was no fucking way they were going to treat him as a breeding stallion! He wouldn’t risk passing on the curses riddling his blood and DNA to any potential children. “Excuse me?” He turned eyes colder than his glacial voice towards the area the comment had come from. A middle aged man with a smug look on his face grinned wider.   
  
“You’re the last of a priceless clan, Uchiha. You have to produce an Heir. Preferably as many as possible…” That cocky grin was pissing him off. “And we can’t have such a valuable resource running off into the fields of battle and letting his clan die away.”   
  
Sasuke felt his fingers twitching against his elbow, itching to kill the pompous man. Instead, he answered, slowly and clearly, as non-threatening as possible while still showing his distaste for the man. “My clan _is_ dead, because of someone from my family that _I_ had to kill. I’m not even old enough to claim the clan head title, regardless of the situation.” He tore his attention from the annoyance and directed it to Tsunade. “I can’t even guarantee I’m fertile. Too many experiments.” He watched her scribble something onto a scroll before her- more notes. No doubt things he’d be questioned about later.   
  
“Then you will submit the clan secrets, all archives and documents, and anything else that-“   
  
“If I can be quite blunt, Tsunade-sama, this is unnecessary and out of line.” Kakashi stepped forward, and the Hyuga clan representative nodded in agreement. “Clan secrets are secrets for a reason, and control and manners of the major clans are left to themselves for a reason. They should not be made public knowledge and it is rude and unwise to demand such a thing.”  
  
The busty blond nodded. “Point noted, Hatake. Please return to your post.” She waited until he had again returned to his spot against the wall before turning her attention to the one who had made the demand. “Danzou, enough. There is no reason why everything should be submitted to the council. However, I will demand a personal file on you, Uchiha. And anything clan related that you bring to me will go into the restricted, sealed records.”   
  
“I will do what I can, Hokage-sama.” Shit. That was too close a call. He’d heard rumors about that man, and he had no doubt putting clan secrets in his hands would result in terrible, horrific things. Tsunade sighed and waved him off. “If that is all, there is a sentence to announce.” Consent circled around the table.  
  
“On the status of the accused, Uchiha Sasuke is hereby removed from the ranks of ninja until such time as he proves himself trustworthy, the time not to be less than six months. _If_ such time occurs that reinstatement happens, he shall be considered a genin and must take the Chuunin exams as any other of his rank. Until that time, he will be considered a civilian, but is permitted to train and spar as to keep up skills and strength. However, any and all usage of the Sharingan is barred. All moderate and high level jutsu of any kind is expressly forbidden. Any usage of the curse seal is to be considered an immediate S-class threat and will be treated accordingly. Uchiha Sasuke will also submit to thorough medical exams and complete questioning to determine any risk of threat contained by body or mind. Breaking of any of these rules will result in imprisonment, and possibly execution. Do you understand and accept these terms, Uchiha Sasuke?”   
  
“I understand the terms, Hokage-sama. Although, I would request emergency usage of my Sharingan be allowed in the case of possible attack. I am well aware my return will be not easy to accept by many of this village.”   
  
Looks passed between the council members, and finally Tsunade answered him. “Should such as you imply happen- whether it be an attack or some other act against you where you feel your life is in danger for no reason, then that situation will be taken into account and consequences decided accordingly. But the rule still stands- usage of your Sharingan is barred until further notice.”   
  
He nodded, keeping his head down at the end of the motion. He was lucky, this time. He doubted it if there was a next time. Konoha wasn’t known for being overly generous with traitors. Fair and just, typically, but not generous. “I accept the terms of my judgment as they have been laid out.”   
  
“If that is all, then you’re free to leave, Uchiha. With an escort, of course.” Kakashi appeared at his elbow, headband lowered over his eye again. “Meet me in the other room in half an hour, Hatake. And get him clean in the mean time.”   
  
Obediently Sasuke followed the Jounin out of the room and down the steps, descending to an empty room. Kakashi removed the shackles once inside and the door was closed. “Strip.” He pointed to a side table that held a bowl and a few cloths. “Get the worst of that stench off. And I don’t want to ever see you in those clothes again.”   
  
Sasuke did as directed, leaving his filthy torn Sound outfit on the floor near the door. “I’ll probably need more water than this,” he commented. Hell, he needed a shower, then a nice long soak. Not only was he sweaty and bloody and filthy, but his overly abused muscles were beginning to complain. But it’d be a bit longer before he could rest and sleep to recuperate his energy. Gingerly he washed the worst off partially healed wounds, then wiped down as much as possible before finally giving up. He doubted he looked or smelled much better. He heard the muffled sigh before suddenly something was surrounding him, water wrapping him up and lifting him above the floor. Kakashi was blatantly ignoring him, but Sasuke could see a hand sign being maintained, and realized with sudden clarity exactly what he was in. A water prison. _‘Good one, Kakashi.’_ He rushed to scrub in the orb, holding his breath as possible to avoid drowning in his makeshift bath. Seconds after he was done he dropped ungraciously to the floor, a wad of black cloth being shoved under his nose. “Get dressed. The night isn’t done yet.”


	2. Itachi's  Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, if you have not read through to the end of Chapter 47 in the main story, GO BACK AND READ THAT BEFORE READING THIS. I'm dead serious. 
> 
> now, for the rest of the thoughts.... This chapter was written quite a while ago. At least three years ago, when parts of DC were clear in my head but before some of my plot bunnies got wild hairs in their brains and did funky things to me. There will be detail discrepancies between what we know now, in DC, both about Itachi and the clan and how I've built his memories, and what is contained in this chapter. Please ignore those discrepancies. If something really bothers you, just remember that the details in the main story are the ones to stick close to, not necessarily all of these here.
> 
> This chapter includes flashbacks, nightmares, shifting animals, and other weird things. It is, by technicality, not 'finished', due to growing clashes between main-story-facts and what I've written of it so far. I am not taking even more time to 'fix' these 'problems', simply posting this as an addendum that will help fill in the blanks. My vision of Itachi here is how he would have been if a) he hadn't been coerced into slaying the clan, and b) he's really a good guy at heart. Itachi with a clean slate and just being completely himself, no past influence and prejudices. Also, use the assumption he left whatever 'trinkets' he had saved here hidden somewhere when he finally returned to Konoha, to protect himself better. I may or may not cue that into the main story later on.
> 
> Thank you for your patience in my efforts to get all this out and posted up. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it at the time.

 

His first acknowledged thought wasn’t even a full thought. Just overwhelming sensation; pain so deep that he couldn’t tell if any part of his body _wasn’t_ hurting. A pulsing throb beat against his eyes and temples, his chest and lungs felt aflame, and his limbs felt beaten. The darkness surrounding him was barely recognized as having his eyes closed against the pounding pain in his head. Just simply opening his eyelids took so much effort that it was hard to maintain the necessary concentration. Dim light filtered in barely cracked lids, a mixed blessing at best. The light was dim enough it didn’t provoke the already raging headache, but it was just enough to note that his vision was blurry. Was it supposed to be fuzzy and distorted? He couldn’t even tell where he was.

Hell, he couldn’t even tell if he was sitting or laying, though he was confident in his inability to be standing at that particular moment.

He hadn’t noticed his eyes sliding shut when he felt another presence around him- one that he couldn’t recognize, couldn’t focus enough to try and identify it. But the soft touched of a damp cloth felt familiar, wiping over his shoulders, neck, and forehead. It was cooling, relaxing. It soothed the pain a little, just enough he could do more than feel raw agony. He tried opening his eyes again, still finding that his sight hadn’t improved.

“You’re awake. You’re in a cave, laying on your right side. You are safe, in friendly territory.” The gentle masculine voice didn’t sound particularly young or old, but the words implied experience dealing with soldiers and ninja enough to relay the important facts that could keep a potentially violent situation from becoming too hostile. He couldn’t force words out of a throat sore and stiff with disuse. The bodiless voice came back. “You sustained heavy injuries in a fight. There’s a gash on your left ribcage that has been slowly healing. You were at death’s door when I found you. You are not quite fully healed but being awake is marked improvement. You were unconscious for three weeks, and spent the last eleven days struggling with fever and trying to shrug off all the general side effects. I managed to get it to break last night but it’s been a very close battle.” Something soft brushed his lips and he tried to lick it. It was cold, and wet- he drew the corner of the wet rag into his mouth, sucking the chilly water from it to soothe his throat. The cold almost burned going down, and he began to cough. Shudders wracked his body as it curled on itself and he tried not to hurt himself further. Finally his body stopped quaking and he lay listlessly on the thin blanket protecting him from the dirt floor.

“Relax, try to get some more sleep. I’ll be here when you wake with more fluids, and something light for you to eat. For now just try to let your body heal.”

He relented to the growing need to close his eyes and shut out everything. Maybe in time, when he next woke, the pain would be gone. He could only hope.

 

***

 

He grunted as he rolled over, a shoulder landing on a small rock that promptly bit into his flesh. The small, sudden pain woke him up and he sat up shakily. He blinked, and a dirt wall and floor met his fuzzy eyes. _A cave,_ he thought. So the voice, vaguely remembered from before, had been speaking the truth. He stopped and took a mental catalog of himself. He still had a mild ache behind his eyes, but nothing like the pounding before. His ribs throbbed, in and out. His eyesight was blurry but not as bad as before, and something about this surprised him. He couldn’t remember why  though. He felt generally stiff, but if the other’s outline of time was correct, that was unsurprising.

“Ninja- san?” He turned to the owner of the voice, seeing him for the first time. A short middle aged man stood about ten feet from him. “Do you remember anything? Your name? Where you are from?”

The exhausted man shook his head. He couldn’t remember much before the last time he awoke here. He tried to think of his name, of his home, and met a wall in his mind so thick with grief he physically shook. He backed away from that thought and tried a simpler one. _Why did I expect to be blind?_   The resulting picture was confusing, and almost creepy- a pair of burning red eyes with three black dots within. Were those his? He wasn’t sure, and didn’t get the chance to figure it out, for chasing on the heels of that mental picture was another- one of a crackling creature, a beast of lightning running down at him. It shook him abruptly from his self-perusal.

He rose from his tumbled position, panting.  It took a few minutes before he gathered himself and managed to acknowledge his caretaker. “It seems I owe you my life, and apparently, my sight as well.”

“Don’t thank me yet. You’ll probably be at least partially blind in one, if not both eyes. I was uncertain on how to heal certain of your injuries. It appears your health was bad, and whatever battle you were in left you in a drastic condition. Keeping up with whatever made you sick in the first place was actually a losing battle.” He handed Itachi a small flask of water, which was gladly drunk down. “I had to use a very unique gift to cure you. The illness is gone, and your body should be nearly complete in its repairs. Except for your eyes, which are healing at a slower rate but seem to be improving.”

Silence hung for a few minutes as the ninja absorbed the information, quietly accepting the small bowl of broth. “Then I still owe you for saving my life. You didn’t have to bother to take the time, but you spared me quite a bit of your time and effort.”

“Then pay me back by taking care of yourself better, and taking time to enjoy life. You looked far too worn out for someone of your age.” The look on his face must have been self-evident, because the man continued on. “If you’re over twenty-five then I am a teenager again.” A wry smile passed the older man’s lips, but it was not returned.

“Why can’t I remember anything? Did you..?” The idea hadn’t occurred until he spoke but now, he wondered. Could his healer have wiped his memories or sealed them away?

“I have done nothing to your mind except keep fever from frying it whole. It is most likely whatever happened before I found you, combined with the lengthy time you were unconscious, that your mind simply locked away the most extreme or troubling memories. If that happens to be everything, then I can only hope it doesn’t last too long.”

“You called me ninja.” There had to be a reason, a symbol... ah, yes. “Was I wearing a headband?” Little, random details were filtering in, most vague or general knowledge. Remotely, he knew a headband would bear the symbol of the nation he was loyal to.

“No. I knew it from your weapons, which I saved. Your clothing were beyond repair and blood-soaked.” He pointed to a small pile of shiny metal on the other side of the fire. “Your sword, a few kunai and shuriken. They have been lightly washed but not tended. Only enough to keep them from rusting. I did manage to save this though, since I wasn’t sure how important it is to you.” He pulled a dark cord from a pocket, revealing three beads woven into the material. They were dark blue, with white circles painted onto them. On one side was a little red dot, and as he looked over one critically, he saw it made a vague fan shape. The sight triggered a wash of appreciation, and yet shame.

“My necklace.” It was important to him, but the why escaped his fumbling reach. His hand began to shake. “Can you hold onto it for me? For a bit longer?” He didn’t want to lose this. It seemed a vital link somehow- if he could only use it.

The older man nodded and accepted the choker, noting how the recovering one was starting to shiver. “Your body hasn’t adjusted yet. Take a nap, relax your body and mind. We can continue in a while.”

Words followed a feeble head shake. “I need to get my memories back. I need to know who I am, at least. A name, anything.” Dark eyes blinked rapidly, a sure signal his sight was blurring again. He’d only had a brief respite from the fuzziness.

“Rest and relax. Pushing yourself will impede your healing and possibly reverse it.” A firm hand on his shoulder pushed him into a reclining position, gently. “If you must force yourself to think, at least do so comfortably. No sense in letting yourself tumble from exhaustion.” The collapse of a few minutes before had him worried, though he hadn’t said anything. If there were anything fighters had in common, it was stubbornness and willpower. He’d personally seen ninja continue fighting while ignoring injuries that would have made civilians collapse and die. Some had died when they had pushed themselves before recovering properly. He didn’t want to watch it in another, while in his care.

The wounded, recovering young man let his body collapse against the pillow that had joined his bedding at some unknown point. The stretching of his midsection reminded him of the wounds on his torso, and he paused. His healer had said he should be mostly healed. With some hesitance, he pulled up his shirt, and peered with curiosity at the pale flesh that greeted his eyes. Faint silvery and white lines scattered here and there, old scars. The twinge came from a brighter, pinker line, almost as wide as his pinky, marring from the middle of his rib cage to just into the soft zone of the belly. It was healed, with no scab, but the flesh was still new, and pulled uncomfortably against the surrounding skin. It’d turn into quite a scar.

He lowered his shirt, letting it fall smoothly over defined muscle and creamy skin. His attention fell on his hands next, noting the fact they seemed.. well, girlish. The finger pads had calluses, proof of the long practice with weapons and hard work. But the digits were long and slender, not quite frail, but not manly, in some way. An unbidden thought appeared- he had pianist’s hands. He could remember someone saying that once, but the instant he tried to catch the memory, it was gone. He could remember it had been said, but not who, or when. It frustrated him- almost as much as when he tried to recall what a pianist was, that, too, escaped him. He closed his eyes, suddenly tired and vision blurring. Details were merging with each other in confusing ways. His mind swirled, until finally he slid unnoticed into sleep.

 

******

_“Aniki?! Why??” Such pouting in those words, a little boy’s whine._

_“You never play with me anymore. When will you come help me?” Disappointment, pouting, but much less whine. The voice didn’t seem much older._

_“But I don’t want to die!” Terror, such vivid terror. Only the type instilled when in fear for one’s life. The words were laced with sobs._

_“I’ll kill you! I swear it!” The hate, and menace, so strong. How could anyone hold such intense negativity in their soul? It was the same as the other two voices, but older._

_“Forgive me, brother. But I cannot regret this end. It is your justice finally meted out.” Such calm coldness in these words. The voice believed, this was the real end. Maybe it should have been...._

_“Goodbye, Itachi.”_

 

 

The raven- haired young man bolted awake, shaking. He’d already lost count of the times he’d had that dream, but it still terrified him. He didn’t, couldn’t recall anything surrounding the scenes those words belonged to, but the tones and words spoke enough. He had spent days trying to put the pieces together but still, all that he could figure was that the owner of that voice was presumably family. If he was the one being spoken to- something the medic had softly supported as being likely- then the boy’s voice was a younger brother. His own name was Itachi. But still, only the dream had given him pieces, ideas of his past, and it was boding poorly for it. What had he done to make his own flesh and blood hate him? What could be so horrible that he couldn’t remember? It made him almost want to not remember.

“The usual?”

“Hai.” He really didn’t like that dream, but couldn’t help it.  “Roma-san? It’s been a week, I’m almost healed. What are you going to do when we are done here?”

The older male cast a criticizing look over his younger charge. He had, indeed, healed since even that first waking. The only thing that really hadn’t improved was the boy’s memories. “I will stay here for a while longer. You may go whenever you feel like it.”

Leave? He had nowhere to go yet, no recollection of home. And even if he knew, he wasn’t sure if he’d be welcomed back. Worries plagued him like angry wasps, never retreating far before returning and sinking him into a deep, lingering headache. He needed something else to think about, if only for a little while. He’d already cleaned and sharpened his weapons to a shine and able to shave with. He’d stretched and exercised his body as much as he dared, working the muscles without tearing any of the old wounds or re-injuring anything. “You’re restless, but dare not think too much. I have an idea for you.”

Itachi focused on his host. The older man settled calmly to the floor, indicating the young man to follow suit. “Meditation will help you clear your mind, calm it, and possibly help in sorting some of your random memories. But beyond that, it is time for you to learn of the gift I passed on to you when I healed your broken body.” As he spoke shadows appeared and thickened around his eyes, until at a careful glance it could be seen as a  soft fur outlined the man’s eyes. The hands settled onto his knees also darkened, and the finger nails grew into short dark claws. “You have the same gift I do, now… but your transformation will be different. At least, what you turn into will most likely be different- the gift is unique to each person.”

Itachi simply stared in wonder. Some random detail said that some of the nin clans could do stuff like this, but that was jutsu based… and this seemed decidedly not so. He watched in avid fascination as the man’s body flowed smoothly into that of a rather large raccoon, fur lengthening around his body as it diminished drastically in size. When the once-human crawled out from the pants he’d been sitting in- he’d forgone the shirt- a big slightly bushy tail was revealed.

“Wow.” He couldn’t help it, he couldn’t recall anything in the few memories he did have that suggested him having ever seen anything quite like this before. “I will be able to do this?” To his further surprise the raccoon nodded, then assumed a sitting position like before, only a bit more awkwardly. Itachi shifted a little until he was again sitting, comfortably, and observed his new teacher. The coon couldn’t talk, but he could mimic the breathing patterns, attempt at the calm concentration the little man-turned-animal radiated.

And the coon _was_ serene. Animals, even at rest, were never so relaxed, do to the nature of life, of prey and predator. But nothing but the slight twist and swivel of the coon’s ears betrayed its alertness in this relaxed state. Itachi smiled softly and set himself into a light meditation trance, something he didn’t really understand with words but his body and mind found easily, like crawling back into a familiar coat. To his surprise, he found himself in an unrecognized room, floor covered in tatami mats, curious fan symbols painted on the walls. A line of torso sized earthen-ware jars lined one wall. It felt like what home should feel like, and on the heels of that thought came a certainty that this was once his home. Or at least a room from it. In his mental landscape he walked across the room, trying to lift the lids from each of the jars. None of them moved. He couldn’t even get them to jiggle in place. He turned away from the jars, hoping for a means of maybe triggering more memories, and found a slightly shadowed door in the far wall. He found a handle, light barely peeking around the seams of the not- quite closed door, and pushed it open.

Light filled his vision, like stepping out into bright day after being shut in a dark room. It took him a minute to realize he’d come outside, where the floor was replaced with lush grass, flowers, and shrub. There was movement within the tall grass, something small and dark flitting back and forth, continuously staying out of sight. Itachi sat down carefully, watching for movement drawing near him, and scanned the area. Trees a short distance away, forming a clearing he now sat in the middle of. The door he walked through to get here was gone. He tried to focus in on the movement, but it had stopped, and he could almost make out that there was indeed something hiding in the grass several yards away, but it was hidden well enough he couldn’t tell what it was. He waited for hours. Every time he tried to move or make a gesture at the thing, it would dart away, never closer, never completely leaving his little peaceful clearing. And so he finally lay back into the grass and waited. He still hadn’t gotten a good look at it by the time he drifted asleep, lulled into quiet comfort by the peace of this place.

 

 

_This time a woman’s face appeared in his dreams, a kind face and black hair, soft smile. She looked happy, so happy. She put a hand out and ruffled his hair- he had to be young, he felt like he should have been looking up at her. “No matter what he says, you were always his pride. Never forget, even if he doesn’t say it, he is proud of you Itachi.  We will always be proud of you.” Fingers traced over the curve of his cheek…. And she faded._

 

 

Itachi blinked, eyes opening to look at the roof of the cave. Hadn’t he gone into meditation sitting up? But then, maybe… he remembered falling asleep and dreaming while in that odd grassy place. Maybe he’d laid back and fallen asleep, physically, here as well. He mulled over the face from his dream. He rose from his place and left the cave, wandering down to the stream that ran behind a curve of hill. Once there he studied his reflection, comparing his face with what he could remember of her face. He was tracing his hand down the spot where that phantom hand had brushed across his cheek when Roma approached him from the side peripheral. “Itachi-san?”

He was quiet for a long moment, staring into the water. “How long was I asleep?” He wanted more of those memories, if they were as nice as that one. It gave him back a piece of his hope. The healer- Itachi wasn’t sure if he could think of the male as being human now, it was weird, still. The other male shrugged, a serious look on his face. “Half an hour, I think? It wasn’t for long. I noted the difference when you relaxed out of mediation and into a proper nap. You seemed relaxed for once.”

Itachi swirled his hand in the stream, creating ripples as he thought further about what he remembered. “I think I saw my mother when I was dreaming. I’m not positive- but what I can remember of the face looks much like mine. She was saying…” He stalled on his words, feeling them too personal at the moment. “She was proud of me.” He finally finished, wiping the look of growing worry off the other’s face. At least it hadn’t been another nightmare.

 They shared a comfortable silence for a little longer before Itachi got up. He wasn’t ready to share his meditation revelations, as little as they were. He’d been thinking about that, too, but hadn’t found anything yet. Maybe more patience would be required to win over whatever was lurking through the grass, watching him in his mind-scape.

  
*****  
  
 

He tried again every afternoon for more than a week, sometimes falling asleep in the peaceful field with its silent shadowy occupant, sometimes just relaxing. He hadn’t had luck with his silent companion yet, but he’d gotten a glimpse of dark fur multiple times. The grass didn’t hide the occasional flashes of reddish fur the way shadows hid it, but it did hide the body. It was a long process, waiting, filling his time with relaxation and letting his body heal as he discovered his mind-scape After that first week or so, he stopped merely laying on the ground and began exploring, careful not to openly disturb the creature that had become his silent shadow. Because shadow him it did, carefully out of sight, but never staying too far behind. And so the game of follow the leader commenced. Itachi would find the softest areas of grass and relax, or wander into the tree line and roams the dim shadows. It was his mind, his place of refuge. It wasn’t his memories, or past, merely who he was now. And it was a rather peaceful place, in spite of everything, and small.

Time passed slower here, it seemed. A couple hours in mediation felt like most of the day, and he emerged feeling more refreshed than he had from any nap he’d taken since recuperating. There were no nightmares here, hardly any dreams. He hadn’t seen the woman from that dream appear since then. But neither did his companion. Finally, almost three weeks into mediation circuits, Itachi broached the subject with his waking companion. “Something is there. I see glimpses, but I can’t seem to approach it, it never comes near me. It’s careful to stay hidden.”

Roma picked over his bowl of rice, watching Itachi with a practiced eye. “Whatever is there is a part of you. The animal is a mirror of yourself. It may not seem to be.. but in some way, it will be. Beings like me… our animal is not sentient to itself. It is merely an animal, with the actions and instincts of one. Only when the animal and the human become one does the human mind control the animal body. But to achieve that- you must first know what you are.” He studied Itachi for a long minute, assessing. “Talk to it. If that fails, reach out again. Maybe now that you and it have become accustomed to each other, it will approach you. You will not move on in this skill until the discovery is made.”

Itachi gave him a steady blank look. “If it is not sentient, why, how, do I talk to it?”

“Dogs and cats, normal ones, not ninja acclimated animals or summons, are often talked to even when the human speaking knows they will not understand. Treat it like an old friend, a pup you wish to earn affection from. Maybe it will respond as such, even though there is not a talking, thinking mind like you and I have. But you must discover what it is and earn its affection, at least to a minimal degree.”

A deep breath filled Itachi and he sighed, nodding silently.  He still wasn’t sure what all was going on sometimes, but he understood enough that he would potentially be able to change his body like his host could. In fact, it had become common place for Roma to shift sometime later in the evening and spend an hour or more locked in meditation. He had grown more accustomed to what the man was, but he still had some trouble in seeing himself the same way. And he'd pictured various animals- none of the ones he could think of really helped his mind to comprehend further. But Itachi knew he would not quit until he had achieved his goal. Failure just didn't seem like an option.

He closed his eyes and sunk into mediation again.

 

***

 

The little bundle of fur was waiting for him, shadowed in the overhang on a tree today. It was a relatively new occurrence, it was only recently as he’d become more frustrated with his lack of progress that his companion began responding in such a way. Apparently, today it was hiding up in one of the trees, a tail-tip peeking out from behind a branch and a brownish face around the other side. It was the most Itachi had been able to see at any one time, and he could distinctly make out a round, slightly wedge shaped head, covered in brown fur, the tail tip white against the bark of the tree.  It didn’t help him much, most of his knowledge seemed locked away with his memories, and while he would recognize random items or words without prompt, other things remained elusive. Including the possibilities of this little creature.

“You’re most elusive, little one.” Itachi offered a soft smile up into the tree as he walked casually past it, sitting against the trunk of one close by. The sound of small claws scraping on bark was his only answer. He waited, like he always did. Itachi had all the time in the world here, even as the reality of life was warning him it was time to move on from this safe place he’d come to like. Even Roma has been showing signs of increased need to move on.

But here, nothing mattered but his thoughts, dreams, memories, and of course, his little shadow. He knew he presented the creature his back, but here, like this, he wasn't worried. If his little companion had wanted to harm him, surely it would have done so by now. Itachi let himself relax deeper, hands loose in his lap.

An undetermined amount of time later, something soft and vaguely cold tapped his fingers. It brought him immediately to himself, but he didn't move. He didn't open his eyes- he might break whatever spell had pulled his companion down to finally visit. He knew within moments the cold damp was a nose, brushing and making little whiffing sensations over his knuckles. After it had made a quite thorough inspection of his hand, Itachi slowly lifted his thumb, daring to try and brush it over the small head nuzzling his skin. It skittered at his first soft touch, returning when he stilled. He tried several times, waiting patiently between each trial and error until the head no longer spooked away. Once he'd let the animal get used to a light touch, no matter how brief, he relaxed his hand again. Again and again the gestures continued, until finally he was able to cup his hand cautiously over that furred head and take careful notes of what he was feeling. Small, rounded ears perked and flattened in reactions to his touches, the head following was indeed a slightly rounded wedge under his fingertips. He let a fingertip trail down to the nose that had been prodding at him, feeling the nose and most of the front of the mouth pressing easily against it. He brushed back the path he'd came, stroking along the middle of the head toward the ears. The response was immediate- the body dropped away and sharp little teeth buried into his palm. Itachi gasped, eyes snapping to see what little creature dared bite him for a gesture liked by most animals.

Beady little eyes glared at him, teeth sunk into the side of his hand, and Itachi couldn't help the chuckle that came up. “You can chew on me, little one, but you won't intimidate me that way. But if you don't like it, I won't pet you like that again.”

There was a faint sensation that felt like teeth attempting to grind into bone before the sleek creature dropped away, avidly licking its jaws and then the rest of its body clean. It gave Itachi more time to study the brown shiny fur that covered most of the creatures body, the small white streak down its throat, the somewhat short, thin tail.  Sharp little claws clung to him and intermittently left to rake through fine fur, and Itachi watched the fastidious cleaning routine partaking nearly in his lap. He glanced down at his hand. The small bloody imprints were already silver; healed over and non-existent amongst the other fine scars on his hands.

He'd never healed that fast without medical attention. Then again, this was his mind-scape. He felt the pain, but the wounds weren't necessarily any more real that the grass and trees and the creature in his lap.

And then it hit him. He finally had his little inner creature, _sitting in his lap_ , and he still couldn't remember what species it was. Why did he only remember flashes of things, and almost never when he needed it? What had happened that burned his memories away and gave him night terrors whenever he slept for extended periods of time? Why did-

A yelp broke his reverie as pinpricks of pain dug into his thigh. Two sets of claws were digging through his pants, and the look on the creature's face was... amused? Itachi didn't know what to make of that look.  The little ears were pointing forward, perked, and there was a small flash of white teeth as the nose wiggled. Then it scampered off, and Itachi watched it frolic in the grass for a few minutes before it disappeared into the trees again. With a sigh he relaxed and pulled himself out of meditation.

 


	3. invitations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Jiraiya had been alive...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd written this in- chapter and then recalled I'd kept to the canon facts of killing him off. Ooops. Posting it here, since obviously it wouldn't fit properly with the main stuff. Also, of course he'd have a cover- name. 
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> (i'm not editing this further. Complaints can be fed to Kyuubi himself)

He's in a loud city and a loud bar, covering his presence with smiles and food and sake. Some kid showed up at his table, a clutch of mail in his hand. “Mister, I'm looking for a ah, Jira Rains?” 

“Yeah,” he looks up. “Whatcha need, kid?” He offered a kind smile, just a drunk old man sitting here, that's right. 

“Mail. Was sent to find you and it took me more'n a week but, here.” The kid pulled out an envelope and a scroll, both sealed particularly against tampering and damage. Jiraiya recognized Tsunade's work on the one but not the writing on the other. And there's a glimpse of the Konoha headband tucked just inside the kid's belt. He had it stuffed in a way that doesn't immediately declare his village. Smart kid, in a city where there's too many unknowns.

“Thanks,” and he pulled out a coin for the kid. No doubt the kid would be paid, on his return, but if he's been hunting the Sannin down for a *week* then there's no hurt making sure the kid gets home in one piece. It also helped the kid's cover as being just a mail runner. If the kid's even a kid. 

He shook his head at himself and watched as the kid practically skipped out the door, studying both items before sliding them in a pocket. He'd read them when he got time to himself. 

 

 

He checked the unknown letter first, doing just about every possible check before he opened it. It came up clean (thankfully) and from a Hyuga (not normal). He slit the top open and teased out a card, eyes scanning it. 

His enthusiastic shout was heard all the way outside his room, and Jiraiya grinned when he realized the little Brat was getting married. To a *Hyuga*. Damn the kid had balls. He checked the calendar.

He could make it. Of course he could make it. It's not nearly as late as he initially worried. 

He unsealed Tsunade's scroll and swore vehemently a few minutes later. He checked over gear and bag and in moments had begun to move on, weaving his way out of town. 

Damn the boy for marrying a *Hyuga*. And having the Sandaime for a best friend. Now Tsunade wanted him there as backup. Bodyguard duty. He's a *Sannin*. Doing *bodyguard* duty. At a *wedding*. 

He'll make Tsunade pay for the sake. That should even things up.


End file.
